Stealing
by SSSP-shhh
Summary: Each one wants what the other has.


**HEY! M here! M the writer, not M the rating. (Check the profile, lovelies)**

**So, this is a Drarry fic. Which I actually have never read before tonight. B here requested it for a belated bday fic... so I did some quick research and tried my best. Please forgive me for any mistakes here.**

**A little angsty, yes. But please enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Man, I wish I was J.K.R. That'd be totally rad.**

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That was it. There was a limit and it had been reached. Or, at least, so it seemed to the shivering Boy Who Lived that stood freezing on the deserted Quidditch Pitch.

"Merlin, Potter, did you actually come alone? And here I thought you and that ginger were practically attached at the hip!"

Harry spun, snarling at the cool drawl. "Shut up Malfoy. I couldn't tell him. You know how he'd take what you did. You're lucky. He'd kill you if he knew."

"No." Malfoy dusted some imaginary lint off of his flawless white shirt. Seemingly unaffected by the unseasonably cool weather, he still dressed in his school uniform, complete with Slytherin tie. His hair, normally severely gelled back, had fallen out of it's perfection a bit, so a few strands fell softly into his face. His expression was cool as he regarded his cold-bitten nemesis. "That ginger could never touch a hair on me, and you know it. I'm more skilled than all of you, including that Mudblood Granger."

"You shut up about Hermione!" Harry lunged towards Malfoy, raising his wand menacingly. "You'll never beat her! She's the best student our age!"

"Oh really?" A pale hand slid down to his belt to calmly grasp a neatly concealed wand. "I wouldn't be so sure, Potter. You saw what happened in Potions today."

It was the first day any one had turned in a potion before Hermione could and the first time someone had been able to brew a better example since Harry had used the Half Blood Prince's book.

"You were probably just stealing someone else's work," Harry growled, trying to cover his own unease. "Just like you always do, right, Malfoy? You've never been able to keep your hands off other people's things."

Nearly silver eyebrows lifted. "So that's what this is about. It's not about Ginny after all-"

"Don't you dare say her name!" Harry snapped and his throat was right under Malfoy's chin. "How dare you... How dare you! She was MY girlfriend."

"Out of foolish sentimentality, yes, she was. WAS being the key word, Potter. It was nothing more than a schoolgirl's crush." He smirked, seemingly unfazed by Harry's violence. "She didn't ever care for you like she cares for me now..."

"Why?" The word cracked, floated away on the wind. "Why?" Stronger now. "Why do you always do this? Every time I find someone, you just have to get in the way of our happiness. Every time! Do you enjoy my seconds, Malfoy? Do you have some insatiable thirst for everything that is mine? Why do you do this to me? Even I... even I don't hate you enough to do this to you."

Malfoy's wand rose up to shove Harry's away. "What makes you think I choose it? The girls come running to me... girls from all sorts of guys. I'm sure you heard of what happened between myself and Miss Patil, after your friend Thomas was stupid enough to let her out of his sight. I don't single you out Potter. You only think that out of some... superiority complex you have. You always have to be _special_. Star kid Potter. Not so special now, are you?"

"SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed and a curse flew at Draco. He neatly blocked it, spell work precise. Harry had to admit that Malfoy was pretty on top of it when it came to school work, but he only came to this conclusion grudgingly, unwillingly. "Just shut up! What makes you so bloody special then? Why do they choose _you_?"

"Perhaps-" A tickling charm was sent Harry's way and he dodged it with a loudly muttered curse. "Perhaps because I have something you clearly lack." Malfoy's eyes radiated amusement. Harry wondered how he could have fallen so far. At one point, he was the clear winner at every point in their rivalry. And now, Malfoy was getting to him with a few easy, chosen words.

"Oh yeah?" A Stunner, sent towards the blonde. Rebounded towards its sender. Quickly dispelled. "What would that be?" Harry's hair fell in his eyes and he shook it away, focused only on Malfoy's tall, lean form and the moisture in the air from the upcoming storm.

"Bedroom skills, perhaps. A little expertise in the physical department can go a long way, Potter. Not that you'd know. Saving it 'til marriage, are you?" Condescension fitted Malfoy as well as his tailored trousers did. It made him almost alluring.

Harry snorted, laughing hysterically. "Please! What skills? Just because you can stick something in somewhere doesn't mean you can do jack with it. Face it, Malfoy. They only come to you because you're easy." At some point he'd lost track of the real argument, but that didn't matter any more. All that matter was staying on his toes, sending another hex in the direction of his sworn enemy.

"Back at you Potter. We've all heard about _your_ skills. Did you really make Cho Chang cry?" Malfoy shook his head mockingly. "I suppose we can't have everything, can we? I mean, with all the fame you've got... I suppose being ugly and horrible in bed makes up for it."

"Just shut up!" Harry's wand was discarded on the pitch as he rushed at Malfoy furiously. He swung and missed as the other ducked. "You're so good? Why don't you show me? Prove it Malfoy!"

"What?" For once, those grey eyes wavered and Harry saw his chance to finally, _finally_ throw the other off their game.

"Come on, Malfoy. Show me these alleged skills of yours. Otherwise... you're all just talk."

Understanding lit the wide, smokey eyes and a jaw clenched. "Fine. _Fine_." In one stride, Malfoy stood chest to chest with Harry, secured his head in his hands and kissed him.

Hard and fast and short, not like he had kissed the girls he'd seduced away from Harry. And yes, he'd lied. They'd never come seeking him. But he couldn't stand the thought of Potter having one more thing he didn't. Especially not the red-haired girl he'd stared after since she'd first come to Hogwarts. The one with the freckles and a sense of humor that was almost devilish enough to be excepted in his House. No, Potter would not have her if he could not.

When he pulled away, Harry had not even had time to register the fact that Malfoy had actually done as he asked, had attempted to prove it. It was wrong, all wrong, but his hatred and his jealousy were mixing in his stomach and making him respond, making him close the distance between them again and kiss Malfoy with every speck of feeling he had, all the anger, all the loathing he harbored. And then they were wrapped around each other, bodies seeking to harm each other even as they pulled closer.

The scent of rain brought them back to their senses and they pulled apart as the first few drops fell.

Harry glared into grey eyes and watched them narrow and turn the emotion back on him. "My room," was gritted out from between stiff lips and they were both running for the castle.

They made it to the dungeons after several pitstops. Once, Harry had dragged Draco into the shadows to sink his teeth into that pale neck. Another time, Draco had shoved Harry into the wall and ripped out the other's hair out as he forced his head back. When they got to Draco's room, it was abandoned and empty, and they clambered into his four-poster bed and pulled the curtain's shut.

"I hate you." Draco muttered as he pulled Harry's jacket off, then his shirt. Even as he twisted the nipples of Harry's chest and turned them red with his spiteful wrath.

"Merlin, I hate you more," Harry hissed, gripping through the buttons on Draco's shirt, exposing a toned white chest. He ran his fingernails down it, hard, and watched as red streaks appeared behind them.

"Hate you so much. Hated you since First Year." Draco slammed his hand down on Harry's chest, holding him to the bed as he tore off Harry's pants, without undoing the buttons. Harry struggled against the hand, almost winning, before the hand slid up to his neck and pressed venomously.

"Hated you... at Madame Malkin's. Before," Harry choked out, twisting Draco's tie around his hand and using it to choke him in return. Draco hissed, finally freeing Harry and yanking the tie over his head. His pants joined Harry's on the floor. Somewhere. Knickers were kicked off simultaneously. Neither looked at the other except to see areas for harm.

Draco scrambled on top of Harry, shoving his knees apart bluntly. Harry wrapped his legs around Draco's waist, squeezing as hard as he could. Hands in blonde hair fisted and methodically plucked out strand after strand.

Preparation was miniscule. "Hate," Draco moaned as he slid in and Potter clenched maliciously around him.

"Hate," Harry gasped as the first hard thrust rocked his body.

"Hate." A head thrown back.

"Hate." Hands clenched onto the other's hips.

"Hate." Bodies rocking together, singing an ancient song meant for much different purposes than these.

"Hate." A strangled cry as tension was relieved and both boys were finished.

There was no cuddling. Neither wanted it. It had been about one thing and one thing only, after all.

Harry pulled his clothing back on quickly, as fluidly as he could, despite the pain wracking his body. He shoved aside the green, satin canopy curtains.

"Potter." The drawl caught up with him before the stairs. "Say hi to Ginny for me."

Shoulders rose and emerald eyes sent a scalding glare back at the reclining snake. Lips pressed together, swallowing back retorts as he descended the stairs.

Grey eyes fluttered shut for a second and then pale pink lips curled in disgust. In both the Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh year boy's bathrooms, the shower was turned on.

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**Well, well. In case you can't tell from this fic, I'm actually a Draco/Ginny shipper normally, but I have found writing Drarry can have it's merits... and I'm certainly glad I did. Please review! Any help with my writing is appreciated.**

**Thanks for reading! :D**


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